


Enjoying The Simple Things

by cazmalfoy



Series: Dylan 'Verse [15]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non Torchwood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:18:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a week before Christmas and Jack's colleagues convince him to spend more time with his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjoying The Simple Things

The young girl lying on the autopsy slab shouldn’t be there. She should be at home with her family, preparing to celebrate Christmas and complaining when she didn’t get the Nintendo DS she wanted, like every other fourteen year old in the city.

Instead, someone had taken that away from her with one single stupid act of getting behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated.

Jack yawned widely and pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes. Cases like this always got to him; they reminded him just how cruel and stupid the world was. Not to mention, they made him feel totally useless when he couldn’t stop people from being hurt.

Putting his hands down, he opened his eyes once more and studied the coroner. “Cause of death?” he asked.

Martha Jones studied the clipboard in front of her for a moment. “Injuries are consistent with a vehicular accident,” she replied, watching as Jack against the closed refrigerator doors. “You okay?” she asked in concern when he closed his eyes once more.

“Yeah,” Jack replied with a sigh. “I just can’t wait to close this case,” he added, opening his eyes and offering her a small smile.

She smiled and swatted Jack lightly on the arm. “What the hell are you still doing here then? Go downstairs, finish your paperwork and go home.”

Jack grinned and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

As he was making his way out of the morgue, he passed Owen Harper who was wheeling in a new cadaver. “Oi, Harkness. You owe me a pint!” Owen exclaimed, spotting Jack a few feet away.

“What? Since when?” Jack demanded, glaring at the doctor for making things up.

“Last month you made me spill mine,” Owen stated matter-of-factly.

Jack thrust his hands in his pockets and chuckled fondly, remembering the pissed off look on Owen’s face. “Oh yeah, sorry about that. Next payday, yeah?” 

Owen nodded his head and continued pushing the trolley through the dimly lit room.

It was nearing three o’clock in the afternoon, although it was impossible to tell that down there. In the morgue there was one window, and it was so high up the wall that there was barely any point in it being there. Jack had once heard a story about the coroner’s wanting to keep the place as dark as possible to scare any nosy cops, but he wasn’t sure how accurate that was.

As he pushed the door open and entered the stairwell, Jack heard the sound of footsteps above him. He glanced up to see Gwen Cooper bouncing down the stairs, her dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders, framing her face perfectly.

“Hey,” she greeted, flashing him a smile and looping her arm through his as they continued down the stairs together. “You heading home?” she asked, popping a piece of chewing gum in her mouth and offering Jack some.

The Inspector shook his head, declining the gum with a smile. “Going home at three?” he scoffed. “I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to do for this case. I’ll be lucky if I get out of here before seven.”

Gwen clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “Jack, it’s Christmas,” she reminded him. “Well, a week before Christmas. This is the first year since I’ve been working here that you haven’t been on call on Christmas day. You should be celebrating that.”

“I will,” Jack insisted, pushing the door open and holding it for her. “As soon as I close this case.”

Shaking her head, knowing she was fighting a loosing battle, Gwen made her way to her desk opposite Jack’s, sliding down into her seat with a grateful sigh and kicking her heeled shoes off. “God, that’s better,” she sighed, massaging the balls of her feet soothingly.

“Tough day?” Jack smirked, raising an eyebrow when Gwen opened her bottom drawer and pulled out a pair of converse trainers. “Oh, very stylish! Converse sneakers with a skirt suit; classy.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, “They’re trainers,” she corrected him, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. Jack was American, born and raised, but had spent the past ten years of his life in the UK and still couldn’t get the grasp of certain British phrases.

“Trainers, sneakers, same difference,” Jack waved his hand. “Why are you in a suit anyway?”

“Court,” Gwen replied, her face crumpling in disdain. None of them liked being in court, but unfortunately to get a conviction it was required.

Jack chuckled and leant back in his chair, “And I thought you’d gone to all this trouble for me,” he pouted, running his eyes up and down her bare calves.

Gwen rolled her eyes at his flirting; they had been partners for years and he still found any excuse to flirt with her as though the world were about to end. “Stop that,” she admonished. “I’m a married woman.”

He shrugged his shoulders, opening the case file in front of him. “So?” he retorted. “I’m a married man. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Speaking of which, a certain lawyer was looking very fine in court today,” Gwen commented. “If I were you, I’d be ripping that suit off with my teeth as soon as I could,” she added with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

Jack laughed loud and shook his head. “Oh, trust me… I’ll be doing that as soon as I get chance.”

“What did I tell you about keeping your love life separate from work?” another voice added to the mix, making both Jack and Gwen look up in surprise.

In front of Jack’s desk was their superior, Doctor John Smith; although what he was a doctor of exactly none of them knew, and he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with details. 

Slowly Gwen slid her feet under the desk, trying to hide her trainer-clad feet before he noticed.

“Nice try.” He flashed her a grin when he noticed her actions. “Since it’s Christmas, I’ll let you off. Speaking of Christmas,” he continued, turning back to Jack, “I’m sure I gave you this year off.”

“You did,” Jack replied. “I just have to finish this paperwork, then I’m…”

Smith shook his head. “No. I don’t care what excuses you have this time, Harkness. You have a family back home and enough holiday saved up to let you have until the Fifty-First Century off.”

He reached out and took the file from Jack’s desk. “Go home, Jack. Spend some time with your family; God knows you probably spend more time with us than you do them.”

Smith walked over to Gwen and deposited the file on in front of her. “Miss Cooper, as punishment for wearing trainers with a suit, you can file Jack’s report for him.”

He flashed them a smile before turning and walking away, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a slight bounce in his step as he whistled Christmas carols.

Jack offered Gwen an apologetic smile as he shrugged on his overcoat; it was cold outside and the weather channels had been threatening show all week.

Seeing his look, Gwen waved her hand dismissively, “Don’t worry about it,” she instructed. “I’ve got to take files down to Audio/Visual for Tosh to run a full diagnostic. So I have nothing to do until the results come back, anyway.” 

She gave him a pointed look and firmly told him to hurry up and leave if he wanted to get to the school on time.

~

The nursery playground was almost overflowing with parents as they waited for their children to be escorted from the school building. It was only when he was stood waiting that Jack realised how long it had truly been since he had made an appearance at the school; none of the people around him looked familiar at all and Jack felt a pang of guilt at the thought.

Just when he was sure his fingers were about to drop off from frostbite, he heard the loud school bell sound from inside the building and the large red doors in front of the parents burst open.

He watched carefully as child after child ran from the building, searching for one in particular.

“Daddy?” he heard a familiar voice question in surprise from the doorway and he grinned when he spotted the five year old standing a few feet away, wrapped up tightly against the cold.

“Hey kid,” Jack greeted, stepping closer to the child who was looking at him with what could only be described as suspicion.

“Where’s Auntie Cadi?” he demanded, placing his mitten clad hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow and looking up at Jack with a look that was so familiar it almost terrified him.

“I called her and said I’d pick you up today,” Jack explained, crouching down in front of his son and looking him in the eye. “You okay with that?” he asked, widening his eyes and looking at the boy pleadingly.

Dylan Harkness studied his father for a long moment before his face was almost split in two with a large smile and he threw himself in Jack’s arms, almost knocking him over.

“Take it that’s a ‘yes’, then?” Jack smirked, wrapping his arms around Dylan.

Together they said goodbye to his teacher, Miss Tyler, before heading out of the playground to where he’d parked the car a short walk down the street.

~

It was almost half past five by the time Ianto arrived home, weary and wet from the short walk from the car to the door. It had been raining ever since four o’clock and he hoped Cadi had remembered to bring the washing in from where it had been hanging out to dry all day. He didn’t particularly want to have to wash everything again.

Their golden cocker spaniel, Myfanwy, looked up when she sensed the dining room door open; she studied Ianto for a second, before deciding he wasn’t a threat and going back to sleep.

Rolling his eyes at their dog’s behaviour, Ianto glanced over at the window and smiled affectionately at the sight in front of him. 

Jack was sitting on the windowsill that he had converted into a window seat a few years before. One of his legs was up on the seat and the other was hanging off the edge. Dylan was sat between his father’s legs, watching droplets of rain slide down the windowpane with Jack. 

Ianto reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. Quickly selecting the camera setting, he steadied his hand and captured the image in front of him. 

Jack looked up when he heard the shutter on a camera click and grinned when he spotted his partner in the doorway. He leant down and whispered something in Dylan’s ear.

The five year old finally tore his gaze away from the window and turned to Ianto. He waved at him before turning back to the rain covered glass.

Pressing a kiss on top of Dylan’s head, Jack managed to slide off the seat, only nearly falling over once. “Hey,” he greeted, crossing the room and pulling Ianto into his arms, hugging him tightly.

Ianto returned the hug, pressing his lips against Jack’s cheek before handing him the phone and pulling his jacket off. “What are you doing home?” he asked, placing the jacket over a nearby chair, telling himself he’d move it later.

“Smith practically kicked me out of the station until after Christmas,” Jack told him, saving the photo to Ianto's SIM card and sliding the phone closed. “I called Cadi and told her I’d pick Dyl up from school. She said she still wanted paying though.”

He laughed as they headed into their living room; Dylan seemed content enough watching the rain. Ianto's sixteen year old sister was in the final year of her GCSE course and, rather than getting a part time job in a shop, Ianto had offered her the job of picking Dylan up from nursery and looking after him for a few hours each day, until either Jack or Ianto arrived home.

With a relieved groan, Ianto slid onto the couch, lying full length across the three-seater so Jack couldn’t sit down. Glaring at Ianto, Jack lowered himself to the floor next to the couch, turning around so he could look at him. 

“You okay?” he eventually asked, just as Ianto's eyes were falling closed with exhaustion.

Wearily Ianto forced his eyes open and studied his partner. “Yeah,” he yawned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s just been a long day. I’m glad I booked Christmas off this year, I need a break.”

Reaching up to brush Ianto's hair away from his forehead, Jack smiled. He knelt up, pressing their lips together softly before sitting back down and reaching for the remote control.

Just as Jack decided on a film that was rated ‘12’, Dylan bounded into the living room, climbing up on the couch with Ianto, not caring that he had to lie on top of the Welshman to fit comfortably. 

Ianto reached down and nudged Jack on the shoulder, “See what’s on Playhouse Disney,” he instructed, wrapping his other arm around Dylan as the five year old tucked his head under Ianto's chin.

Obligingly Jack changed the channel and handed Ianto the remote control. Wordlessly he got to his feet, heading into the kitchen to make them all drinks. It was getting late and they should really be having something to eat, but Jack was too tired to cook and he had a feeling Ianto would be as well. Dylan had already had his tea before Ianto got home so he knew he didn’t have to worry about that; maybe they could order a pizza or Chinese later.

Returning to the living room, Jack found himself mirroring Ianto's actions from earlier and stopping in the doorway with a smile on his face. Both Ianto and Dylan were watching the television intently; Jack had no idea what it was about, although it seemed to be capturing their attentions completely. 

Deep down, Jack was so glad Dylan looked more like him than the child’s mother. Dylan had been the outcome of a short relationship followed by an even shorter marriage. Jack’s ex-wife, Lorraine, had left Dylan with his father months after he had been born - along with their divorce papers - never to be seen again.

Six months after they had moved in together Ianto had officially adopted Dylan – pulling strings only a lawyer knew how to pull along the way. 

Jack had only discovered Ianto's secret Welsh lessons with Dylan when they were unpacking and found them in the middle of a conversation. Ever since, Dylan had taken to calling the Welshman ‘Tad’ and, thanks to Ianto, knew almost as many Welsh words as he did English.

He’d actually lost count of how many times he had caught them having an in depth conversation in Welsh, only for them to giggle between themselves when he asked what they were talking about.

The floor beneath Jack’s feet creaked and Dylan lifted his head from Ianto's chest, grinning when he saw Jack watching them. “Daddy! Come watch the bear and blue house!” 

Chuckling to himself, Jack returned to his spot on the floor, setting their drinks next to him. 

As he sat watching the children’s programme, with Ianto running his fingers through his hair, Jack found himself thanking Smith for ordering him to come home early. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed spending uninterrupted hours with the two most important men in his life.

The End


End file.
